Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/879047.

Rating: Archive Warning: Category: Fandom: Relationship: Character: Additional Tags: Stats: Explicit Underage M/M Hockey RPF Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews Patrick Kane, Jonathan Toews, Brent Seabrook, Duncan Keith, Corey Crawford, Patrick Sharp Alternate Universe - High School Published: 2013-07-11 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 13968

roll with it
by hazel Summary

The one where a bunch of Blackhawks inexplicably go to boarding school, Tazer is the world's meanest DM, and Pat doesn't know why anyone would think cutting the head off a hydra was good idea.

Notes

It takes a village with a tavern in it: thanks to jedusaur and labellementeuse for audiencing, lattice_frames and thisissirius for helpful advice, tamarillow for listening to me whine for eight months, merisunshine36 for betaing fabulously, and everyone whos encouraged me on twitter. Chapter two is just a bonus extra featuring a fake zombie apocalpyse with fake major character death; I liked it too much to scrap it entirely, but it doesn't fit in the main story.

Chapter 1
Pats in detention almost every Thursday, but he doesnt care because the uniform code is fucking bullshit anyway. Theyre meant to wear their shirts buttoned to the collar and their ties on straight; their blazers arent meant to have inkstains or ragged cuffs from catching them on the stonework; and their shoes are meant to be shined every weekend. Pat has better shit to do with his time than polish his fucking shoes, okay, and having to spend an afternoon doing homework in a detention room in silence is not actually that different from having to spend an afternoon doing homework in his common room. Today hes got chemistrysomething something hydrocarbons something something covalent bonds, whateverbut mostly hes doodling his wizard in the margins and wondering whether his dice set has been cursed somehow. The problem this week had been his hata Sabres cap, worn backwardsand his sunglasses; but hed had to hide the bags under his eyes from surreptitiously reading the Monster Manual after lights-out somehow. Mr Morelli, supervisor of detentions since dinosaurs walked the earth, coughs when its time for Pat to go, and he stuffs his chem textbook and his doodling back into his backpack and takes off at a run. Thats technically against the rules too at the League Academy, but Pats pretty sure Mr Morelli thinks hes a lost cause anyway. Its a long way from the detention room to Hawk House, and Pat basically has to run if he wants to have time to change into casual before dinner. Pat may be a gamer, but hes not a geek, okay. * Tazers still in the room when Pat gets there; kind of surprising, because Tazer likes to take time every Thursday night to plot out gameplay in the library, and usually strolls into dinner 5 minutes late and smirking. Tazers their DM, and Tazer is the devil, pretty much. Pats totally resigned at this point to having a mad crush on a dude who tries on the regular to get him eaten by trolls; its not like he can help what he finds hot. Its just kind of embarrassing being so into a guy who sneers at the hipsters whenever they go to the comic store in town. Detention? Tazer asks, not looking up from his Post It-flagged DMG. Yeah, Pat says. Tazer nods, and then sticks another flag to a page, highlighting a paragraph and cackling under his breath. Pat thinks thats probably a bad sign for tonight. Ill head down in a minute; you go ahead. Like Pat was even waiting for Tazer. He changes into jeans and a hockey jersey and leaves. * Their game has 5 players and Tazer at the moment. Pat plays Marelon, the most awesome wizard in the middle of the multiverse, no matter what Sharpy says. Sharpy plays their rogue, Isley; all his other friends think gaming is for losers, but Sharpy just stares them down and points out that his hotass girlfriend cosplays. Its a pretty strong argument. Crow used to spend all his time moodily drawing in the back of the art room and playing soccer, but one night last year he turned up at gaming and announced he was going to play a cleric named George. Tazer stared at him for a while and then pulled out a blank character sheet.

And then theres Duncs and Seabs. Duncs jumped into a fight Tazer and Pat were having one day about whether they should defect to White Wolf to ask if they were actively campaigning and then said he usually played bards. This year, his character is Ralph. Duncs would be the least likely gamer ever, except theyre playing with Seabs, who only plays because Duncs plays. Seabs refuses point-blank to play anything that cant kick ass and take names with great prejudice; this year, hes their tank, and his name is Gaian. Its a pretty good mix of characters and playing styles; Pat sometimes wishes Sharpys rogue didnt pickpocket NPCs so damned much, even though thats how Marelon got his wickedawesome new staff, but apart from that its all good. Even the clerics amazing: he stood down an entire platoon of orcs with a speech about pragmatism one time. * Marelon looks at the talking shoe dubiously. Everyone is looking at the talking shoe dubiously. I know a secret! the shoe says. Marelon smites the shoe. What? he says, when George, their cleric, glares at him. Youre not supposed to trust anything if you cant see where it keeps its brain. What if it really did know a secret? Idley, Rogue of Westhallow, asks. An important one? If it knew important secrets, why the fuck would it be shaped like a shoe? Marelon asks; its a pretty fucking important question, if you ask him. A crone steps into the shepherds hut theyve been hanging out in, and coughs to get everyones attention. I know a secret! she says. Was it you making the shoe talk? Ralph asks, tapping on his mandolin. ... yes, the crone says. For I am a witch! Then she transforms into a busty barmaid, complete with garters and a frilly skirt. Awesome! Marelon says. Do you know the way to the nearest tavern, is that the secret? The barmaid sighs. * What the fuck is it with you and taverns anyway? Tazer demands later, once theyve run upstairs in time for lights-out. Pat shrugs. Mostly I just like fucking with you, he says, which probably isnt something he should admit to his DM but his mom always says honesty is the best policy. The tavern had worked out pretty well anyway: Idley had pickpocketed half the patrons without being caught, and Ralph had made a bunch of tips by playing Im a lusty lumberjack on his lute while Gaian monotonously shook his tambourine and glared. Theyd worked out halfway through the third round that they needed to take the dark path that meandered through the forest rather than the cobbled walkway past the meadow if they wanted to get to the golden lake where the dryads lived, and nobody had gotten eaten by a troll. Youre a pain in my ass, Tazer says, half-hearted and easy, while he changes into his pajama pants and throws his shirt in the loose direction of his dirty clothing pile. Pats going to kick his ass if he trips over it again.

I think you mean Marelons a pain in your ass, Pat says. Nope, Tazer retorts. Hey! Pat says, outraged. Hes a fucking gentleman and a scholar, okay, and he hasnt even thrown Tazers hideous smelly week-old gym clothes out the window this month. Tazer just gives him this look, all disdainful and shit. Pat would keep arguing but its lights-out in a minute and hes got better things to do with his time, like making sure all his homework is in his bookbag for the morning and getting his dirty clothes into his laundry basket, jesus. * Mrs Chang in English class is a tyrant. Pat legit spent most of an entire weekend working on his essay on leadership in Shakespeare; he even paid attention when Tazer started droning on about paragraph structure, instead of crumpling draft pages up and throwing them at Tazers head. She still gives him a B. Hed personally be pretty okay with a B, because its not like anyone ever got rich from knowing poetry, except that Tazer gets this smug look on his face whenever he beats Pat at anything and that cannot be. Pats math grade is a full letter above Tazerswhich, ha ha, calc is only a million times more useful than literary analysisand Pat has tried to lord that over Tazer over and over again. Only, it only makes Tazer keep Pat awake way past lights-out doing extra work by flashlight, and the whole thing isnt worth the drama or the threat of even more detention. It isnt even worth the look on Tazers face whenever he beats whatever goal hes set himself, even if that look is secretly one of Pats favourites. Detention with Tazer is the fucking worst; Pat learnt that in freshman year. Howd you go for English? Tazer asks at dinner. B, Pat says around a mouthful of spaghetti. Huh, Tazer says. Thats better than your last couple. Uh, yeah, Pat replies. Tazer shrugs. Well done, I guess. Whatever. Screw you, Pat shoots back. Tazers not, like, his fucking life coach. Tazer looks up from where hes been tearing his dinner roll to pieces. No, like, thats good, right? he asks, and he looks kind of embarrassed but also sincere. I guess, Pat says, suspicious. He isnt really used to sincerity from Tazer, at least when hes not sincerely trying to send attack penguins out to bite all his gamers to death while theyre peacefully brawling in a tavern. No, it is, Tazer insists, kicking him under the table. Pat kicks backnaturallyand the weirdassed conversation about Pats academic prowess gets forgotten as they end up pushing each other off the bench and wrestling on the ground. Tazers really tall and strong, and those things and also the way hes scowling with determination are making it kind of hard for Pat to focus on winning. Gentlemen, Mr Quenneville says, wearily. Pat looks up from where hed been trying to get Tazer into a headlock and tries grinning at him. Mr Q forces his mouth into a frown. This isnt the behaviour we expect from two of the Leagues

finest juniors, boys, he says. Were really sorry, Tazer says quickly. It was inappropriate and a bad example for the freshmen. Also, Mr Q says, very slowly, like hes thinking about it. Both of you have terrible technique. Detention next Saturday afternoon with me and Mr Savard in the gym. Pat turns to glare at Tazer. Tazers glaring right back at him. * The dragon comes out of fucking nowhere. Ralph the bard is right in the line of fire; he just manages to roll out of the way, and the dragon lets out a strange, howling shriek of rage before bounding after the entire group, who are scrambling through the misty forest in the dead of fucking night and fucked off about it. Marelon throws a ball of wizardflame at it, but it just bounces off the dragons iridescent scales; dragons are apparently immune to fire. Well, fuck. Can you make the ground disappear under it? Idley, the rogue, asks. Cant smite, running, Marelon snaps back. And its a fucking dragon, he adds. So? George demands, clerics robes flapping round his ankles and threatening to trip him until he hikes them above his knees. So, it can fucking fly, Marelon says. The dragon sets fire to the surrounding trees. Marelon casts a quick rain spell and, against the odds, it works; the fire slowly dies down. Theyre still being chased through a fucking forest by a fucking dragon, but small mercies. Ralphs a slow runner and wont ditch his lute or his mandolin for love or money, and eventually it gets the best of him; the dragon catches up and throws a blast of flame right on his heels. Fuck! Ralph shouts, and Gaian turns. Fucking leave him alone! he screams, brandishing his sword in an arc and, miraculously, slitting the throat of the dragon, who lets out an anguished death squall and falls into the trees. You saved me! Ralph says, staring at Gaian, and then theyre kissing, right there in the middle of the forest with the dragon dead beside them and the mist rising What? Sharpy asks. What? Pat adds. Its in character! Duncs says, defensively. Youre playing a gay bard? Tazer asks. You got a problem with that? Seabs demands, staring at him. No! Tazer says quickly. No problem at all. theyre back in the forest, and Marelon steps towards the dragons corpse. Its scales are gleaming in the moonlight; theres a gap in the canopy wide enough to illuminate the gaping slit in the dragons throat. Marelon throws up a couple of magelightsthey work perfectly, yes enough to see glimpses of bone in amongst the dripping muscle. Anyone got some spare jars or

enough to see glimpses of bone in amongst the dripping muscle. Anyone got some spare jars or bags? he asks, but he has to throw a rock at Gaians head to get him to stop kissing Ralph. Idley and George are still standing around like idiots. Marelon thought George at least would have known better; everyone knows what clerics get up to at priest school. Its not called priest school, you stupid mage, George hisses, outraged. Its called seminary! Marelon does not have time for that shit. Whatever. We need to cut out its heart, he says. And we should get as many of the scales and teeth as we can carry. Theyre worth a bunch. You think we should stand around collecting body parts? Idley asks. In a dark, misty forest in the dead of night? Are you insane? Beer money, Marelon says flatly. Everyone else shrugs, and they get on with it. * They end up having to skip the next weeks session because Tazers got this massive calc test coming up and he deals with math mostly through cursing and furiously trying to memorise some proofs. Pat thinks that memorization is the wrong approach to take with math, but whatever makes Tazer happy. Or less likely to throw shit at Pats head. Tazer comes back to the room after his math test looking like hes been slapped in the face with a wet fish, which Pat takes to mean it didnt go that well. Uhhh, Pat says. Tazer drops his head into his hands and stays like that for a while. It cant be that bad? Pat asks eventually. Tazer looks up and glares at him. Im going to fail, he says. Maybe, Pat replies. Like, he actually might. Tazers glare gets more stupid. And then Ill fail calc, and Ill fail out of junior year, and Ill get expelled and have to move back home and live with my parents and go to public school and I dont know anyone in Winnipeg hardly anymore and I hate this stupid class and stupid math and stupid everything, he says, in one big hurried breath. Pat stares at him. Chill, bro, he says. The worst that can happen is youll have to repeat the class. I hate you too, Tazer says, more passion in his voice than Pats heard for a whileand it shouldnt be hot, that much viciousness when Tazers so freaked out, but it is. Tazer then flops backwards onto his bed and lies there, staring at the ceiling and muttering about integrals. This calls for desperate measures. Pat opens the bottom drawer of his nightstand, the one where he hides a bunch of candy underneath his (clean and tidily folded, thank you) socks, and pulls out his last two Reeses peanut butter cups. Tazer sits up when the packet smacks him in the forehead and stares at him. And you can have my chocolate pudding at dinner tonight if you shut the fuck up about calculus, Pat says. Tazer sighs heavily and nods. Deal, he says, before ripping open the packet to chew sullenly on a peanut butter cup. Tazers completely shameless about his addiction to chocolate, and Pat tries to

keep some hidden away for the purposes of bribery and corruption. It hasnt failed him yet. And, yes, also, because he likes making Tazer smile to himself as he nibbles on a Snickers, but hes not talking about that with anyone. Pat grabs out his AP calc homeworkhes not failingand starts going over it while Tazer scowls at his candy. Tazer better fucking properly appreciate that shit. * Tazers always had fun making up NPCs, and since they started playing freshman year hes gotten pretty good at it. He told Pat once, during a section on medieval Europe, that gaming helped him to picture what life must have been like, and hed kicked ass in history that year. This game so far has had a bunch of ratcatchers, various peasants, ogres, evil wizards, good witches, trolls, and a lot of barmaids. The barmaids are confusing. Like, sexually confusing. Pat doesnt think they used to be this flirty, back when he was playing Stoneclaw, the chaotic-good rogue, or Stanley, the neutral-evil wizard before him. And they dontlike, none of the barmaids or wenches or witches seem to try to flirt with Ralph or Gaian, even though its already been established that they have rugged good looks that make all the ladies go weak-kneed. And Idleys charisma stat is ridiculously high, but theyre still way more willing to answer Marelons questions. The really weird thing is that its only the ladies. Marelon would totally flirt with barmen or whatever if that got him to the Scroll of Regret faster (what? Hed heard a rumour that it had a map of the Southern Lands in invisible ink on the back, and hes got a spell for that. And lemon juice), but they seem way less interested in his charms. Charms. Heh. Are you sure theres nothing I can do to get you to look the other way when we sneak through? Marelon asks the massive troll guarding the citys West Gate. Nothing at all? He tries batting his eyelashes, and Idley stifles a laugh into his fist. George isnt even trying to hide his strangled cough. The troll stares him down. Get lost before I call the boss, he says. Marelon surreptitiously casts a spell to make his undergarments itch uncontrollably as he leaves. The West Gates the easiest way into the citya wench in the last village told them thatand theyre going to have to figure something else out now. * This one time in sophomore year, between a giant quiz for physics and a massive report on Shakespearean drama, Pat almost broke his wrist falling over Tazers pile of dirty underwear. Tazer laughed for five minutes, red-faced and hysterical, before begrudgingly going to get an icepack. When he got back, he threw it at Pats facebut gently, almost, and Pat figured that was the closest thing he was ever going to get to an apology. He was too busy lying face-down in his pillows with the icepack on his arm to wonder what Tazer was doing, slamming around the room like an entire herd of elephants, and he fell asleep like that, sore and annoyed. When he woke up a couple of hours later, the icepack was melted and half-squashed under one of his thighs, and Tazer was sitting up in bed, reading A Catcher in the Rye for AP English. Youre a douche, Pat said. Tazer looked over at him, pissy at being interrupted from his work of literature or whatever. I

cleaned up, didnt I? Pat looked around. There wasnt so much as a single dirty sock peeking out from under Tazers bed; the messy piles of paperwork had been straightened up; and the closet doors didnt even look like anything was trying to force them open. Huh, he said, looking over at Tazer. Tazer shrugged. Not a big deal, he said, which was a lie. Tazer had gotten them detention four times in freshman year for being apparently unable to keep his shit in drawers where it belonged, and if he wasnt generally okay to be around in a bunch of other ways Pat couldnt really define he would have seriously considered trying to go room with Saad or someone. Tazer cleaning the room by himself without a housemaster standing over him threatening him with demerits was fucking unprecedented. Pat could only hope that his face spoke volumes, because he thought if he said anything, Tazer would probably throw something at his head. After opening a drawer to get it, because all his useless shit had been put away. And, okay, fuck subtlety: this was worthy of celebration. Tazer didnt even yell at him when he started doing a shimmy on his bed, and when Pats wrist started hurting again, he went and got another icepack from the dorm freezer without even bitching about it. That was when Pats totally harmless crush on his roommate sprung into life. That, and Tazer coming back from winter break sophomore year a whole inch taller and kind ofwider, somehow. Pat thought of doing something about it, but his options were either running away to room with Saad and avoiding Tazer forevermore, or, like, laying one on him, probably getting punched, and then running away to room with Saad and avoiding Tazer forevermore. Sometimes Tazer looked at Pat kind of weird, like maybe he liked what he saw; but that didnt mean anything, couldnt mean anything. If Pats attempts to convince Tazer to go and get him soda from the vending machine by batting his lashes at him and smiling in a way his mom told him once was sure to make girls like him didnt work, clearly Tazer wasnt into him. Pats mom didnt lie. * Pat never stops trying to get Tazer to do stuff by batting his lashes at him and smiling. Sometimes it even works: Pat thinks probably more because Tazers cranky and sending him off to do battle with the photocopier for Pat will, like, ease his manly tension or something, but whatever. The point is, Pats been hiding his ridiculous crush on a guy who unironically listens to sad folk songs because he likes the melodies for almost two years now, and hes been doing that mainly by way of batting his lashes a lot and sometimes climbing Tazer like hes a tree and Pats a monkey/octopus hybrid creature of the deep, and Tazers like theHey, Tazer, Pat says. In the game, can we No, Tazer says. You dont even know what I was going to say! Pat exclaims, indignant. Something stupid, Tazer says, turning over a page in his DM notebook without looking up. No, but: monkey/octopus hybrid creatures of the deep, Pat says. That is the most stupid thing youve said all day, Kaner, Tazer says, but hes smiling, and hes

turning over the page in his notebook and writing a new heading in his special red heading ink, and and this is why Tazers lady NPCs flirting with Pat all the time are so fucking confusing, like, sexually. Because Tazer brushes over Pats constant noogies and wrestling and mock flirting like theyre nothing, like he never learnt what pigtail-pulling was in elementary school, but Tazers lady NPCs pretty much fall over their own scantily-clad bosoms to give him information in-game, like the whole world is populated with women who have the hots for Marelon, wizard of the North. They never wrote that into his character sheet, Pat knows that for sure. * The fact that Ralph and Gaian keep making out as part of their tavern act these daysThe ladies like it, Ralph claims defensively, and Marelon isnt going to arguemakes approximately zero sense until Pat catches Duncs and Seabs holding hands and, smiling at each other behind the gym one Sunday afternoon. Its not the gayest thing Pats ever seen, because hes watched a lot of porn and also the first two seasons of Queer as Folk, but its pretty close. Duncs, who wears metal tees under his school uniform shirts and reads books about serial killers, looks all soft and shit and, man, this is not where Pat wants to be. He just wanted to find somewhere he could grumpily stare down at his feet and mope about Tazers stupid shoulders and scratchy handwriting and subpar math skills. He steps back, intending to sneak his way back around the corner and then maybe casually mention to Duncs and Seabs somehow that they might want to find a better place to gaze upon each other like Westley and Buttercup. But he stands on a twig or something, and Duncs and Seabs snap away from gazing at each other soulfully and towards Pat, andUh, Pat says. Seabs drops Duncs hands and takes a step back. Fuck! he exclaims. Pat finds that hes, like, put his hands up, like Seabs is going to arrest him and/or karate-chop his face, and he puts them back down at his side because he is not afraid. Sorry to interrupt, guys, he says. I was just lookinguh. His voice trails off, because looking for a quiet place to be depressed about my boner for Tazer isnt a sentence he ever wants to say out loud. You didntyou cant tell anyone, Kaner, Seabs says, obviously panicked. Duncs opens his mouth like hes about to say something, but closes it again. I wont, I swear, Pat says. Thats not cool. My mom said when I told her I was bi that it should always be my choice to tell people or not, and she knows shit. Seabs blinks. What? he says. Shit. Pat totally did not mean to say that. Uhhhh, he says, helpless. You too? Duncs asks, and hes smiling widely. Its a weird combination with his long, greasy hair and his faded band tee; Pats way more used to hearing him talk excitedly about murder weapons. Uh, yes? Pat says. Like, girls too? I think? I dont We wont tell anyone, Seabs says. Mutually-assured destruction.

Pat stares at him. Brent! Duncs hisses. What Brent means, he says to Pat, Is that, like, its cool you told us and we know you wont tell anyone because youre our friend and stuff. And Ill break your face, Seabs says. Hed look more menacing if Duncs wasnt simultaneously holding his hand and kicking him in the shin. Uh, yeah, Pat says. I get it. And, hey, its cool we all know now so we can talk to each other about things, Duncs adds. Man, his decision to play a gay bard named Ralph makes way more sense now. Yeah, I guess, Pat says, backing very slowly away. The last thing he wants to do is talk to anyone about anything, and Duncs kind of looks like a tiger about to pin down his prey and force it to confess its feelings, possibly while clutching a pillow. * Their next session is a shitshow. Partly thats because Duncs and Seabs are still on-edge in case Pat decides to, like, announce to the entire junior class that theres gay banging in Hawk House; and partly its because Marelon manages to convince everyone to give up following the trail through the Loosely Regulated Forest towards the Castle of Regret and just go swimming in the Temperate Lake of Glenfiddich instead. It turns out that swimming in a lake of whiskey isnt a very good idea. Marelon finds this out when he swallows a mouthful, passes out, and wakes up in a bubble at the bottom of the lake, being gently slapped awake by a merman named Crankelion. You have survived, Crankelion intones. Your friends may not have been so lucky. Merlins beard! Marelon exclaims. The conversation deteriorates from there. Marelon eventually manages to escape, but not before having to swill his strongest healing potion and narrowly avoiding being ensnared by the limb of an oddly furry octopus. When he finally makes it to shore, headachey, disoriented, and missing his hat, the rest of the party is nowhere to be found. He casts a Find Them charm which points him north-by-northwest, and stumbles into camp just in time to watch Ralph polish off the last of the rabbit Gaian had caught for dinner. * Youre such a fucking pain in my ass, Kaner, Tazer says sharply, while theyre walking up the stairs to their room. You go off and do random shit all the time, and you ruin all my plans, and I have to think stuff up on the spot. Pat stops in his tracks for a minute, feeling a little like hes been stabbed in the guts by one of Idleys knives. Uh, sorry, he says, forcing snottiness into his voice because you dont show weakness to angry beasts. No, I Tazer says, and then sighs, dropping it. Pat stomps up the rest of the stairs after him, pretending hes a tyrannosaurus rex and the ugly carpet is a forest filled with prey. When they get into their room, Pat makes a beeline for his bed and flops onto it backwards. He honestly thought him and Tazer were friends and that Tazer liked gaming with him, and its making him feel shitty, the idea that maybe hes been wrong about that.

Tazers moving around the room kind of quietly, for him, and that would make Pat suspicious and interested in finding out what Tazers plotting, if only he wasnt too busy sulking. Tazer starts to speak once, but Pat rolls over so hes facing the wall and pulls his pillow over his head. He stays like that until lights out, and ends up having to kick his uniform pants off in the dark while Tazer rustles across the gap. Im a way better DM because of you, Tazer says, once theyve both stopped moving, while Pats staring up at the ceiling in the gloom. Thatthat is not what Pat expected to hear. Thanks, he says eventually. Its a lot easier to go to sleep after that. * Pat has no intention of ever talking about it again, but after the next session Tazer complains bitterly about how Marelon convinced Ralph and Gaian to convince the nuns to let them hide in the abbey from the horde of angry farmers by way of shaking their moneymakers. Duncs and Seabs maybe got up to do a dance while Tazer was throwing his D12, and Crow fell off his chair laughing. That should not have worked, Pat, Tazer says crankily. Nuns are married to God. Hey, Pat says, smirking. You think Im great. I make you a better person. Tazer, being a giant weirdo, flushes and looks away and, weirdest of all, drops it. Pat doesnt even know, some days. * Its pretty dumbass timing; Tazers meant to be helping Pat make a diorama for sex ed, and instead hes dropped the popsicle sticks to wave his hands around while he talks about how he totally got this girl Carolines top off last summer. Yeah, cool story, Pat says. I got my hands on this guy Aarons junk last summer. Hes been planning to tell Tazer about him since Duncs and Seabs found out, but he seriously didnt plan it to happen during a game of oneupmanship. Uh, he says, stupidly. All his internet searching for the perfect e-card is useless now. Uh, Tazer parrots back, clearly on autopilot because it sounds all sarcastic but he looks stunned. Pat feels frozen in place. Hes not sure what to do, and he hopes to god this isnt going to end in him having to run away and room with Saad for the rest of the year. That guy has weird hair. Thanks for telling me? Tazer asks, sounding uncertain, when the silence in the room has stuck around long enough to set up a small civilisation in the gap between their words and maybe make cautious advances towards developing nuclear technology. Oh my fucking god, Pat breathes out in a rush. Iuh. Tazer blinks. You didnt mean to tell me? he asks. Shit, no! Pat exclaims, shaking his head. At leastuhmaybe someday? But notuh. Tazers stunned face drops into a smirk. Not like that? he asks. Its cool, though, if youin case you were worried, he adds. Fuck you, I was not, Pat lies, obvious enough to be seen from space.

* Tazer throws a minor shitfit when he finds out Duncs and Seabs knew about Pat before he did. Only for a few weeks, Pat says. He has no idea why hes trying to fucking console Tazer about his hurt feelings regarding Pats sexualityit probably has something to do with how he has feelings about the line of Tazers jaw. No, but, Tazer whines. Its only because I found them sucking each others face out behind the gym, Pat explains. Hes pretty proud of the way hes made Duncs and Seabs sound way cooler than they actually are; making out is a billion times cooler than holding hands and looking at each other soulfully. Tazer snorts. Everybody knows about them, pretty much, he says. But you hide it pretty well. Yeah, Pat says. I guess, like. I dont know, man, I go to boarding school. So do they, Tazer points out. And weve got your back. Yeah, but Im way less awesome at punching stuff than Seabs, Pat says. And Duncs looks like hell cut someone. Tazer looks kind of dissatisfied with that answer. Pat has no idea why hes being so weird about this; it wouldve made sense if hed been weirded-out by having to room with a guy potentially into his junk, but that clearly isnt bothering him at all. Which: Pat would be insulted by that, if he wasnt so fucking grateful. You should be able to be whoever you want to be, Tazer says, earnest as all hell, and thats it. Pat leaps on him and tries to give him a noogie in the desperate hope hell stop talking about how supportive he is of Pats right to like dick. * Theres a mysterious rogue dressed in leather leaning against the smithy wall in the next village. Hey, Marelon asks him. Do you know the way to the Field of Malcontent Youth? Yeah, the rogue grins. But youll have to make it worth my while. Marelons pretty sure hes leering. Marelon upends his entire bag of tricks onto the dusty ground at his feet in an attempt to find something good enough to bribe a mysterious rogue with. Unfortunately, hed used up most of his supplies trying to get rid of Idleys itch, and the only trade good he has left is a small and dusty blue bottle that had been wedged in between the magic mushrooms he picked up last month and a ball of twine. Uh, will this do? Marelon asks, thrusting it in the direction of the rogue. The rogue looks at the bottle, looks at Marelon, and looks at the bottle again. This is FleaAway, he says flatly, and glares before turning away. They get lost three times on the way to the Field, and when they get there theres only one Malcontent Youth left, naked and slumped on a haybale, clutching a brown bottle of Ye Olde Scrumpy and burping periodically. Its not until the next morning that hes sober enough to talk coherently, and even then he only talks about fried eggs and bacon. *

Marelon makes a special effort to pick up anything that looks interesting for the next few weeks shiny rocks, dusty bottles found in dark alleyways, odd lengths of fabricand stash them in his pockets. Nothing stays in there for long: its as if the entire hot peasant population of the Northern Wilds has woken up and discovered bribery. Theres a tall, dark-haired bartender named Rye in the latest village. Their partys on their way to the Witchs Cottage that should be somewhere nearby, and theyve stopped for one last tankard of mead before they go off to face certain death (with Ralph on backing mandolin). You want another? Rye asks Marelon. Its weird. Bartenders dont usually want to keep serving Marelon; they usually want to get him out of their tavern as fast as possible so they can go back to watering the beer for bucolic farmers and not risk having a magical firefight break out over whether the blacksmiths allowed to critique the dance Marelon had taught Ralph and Gaian. Uh, I think Im out of coins, Marelon says slowly. Rye grins. Hey, dont worry about it. Its on the house, he says. Marelon stares at him, mind working frantically. Maybe its berry beer. Maybe its poisonous berries. The hot bartender is trying to poison him! Hes still staring, trying to come up with some kind of excuse as to why he cant have anothermaybe they have to go, because Georges great-grandmother has venison pie waiting for them in her cottage, and she gets surly when people are late for dinnerand Ryes staring back at him, patient, when Idley throws down his walking stick and stands, and For fuckssakes, guys, can you flirt on your own time? Sharpy says. Were all cool with your relationship, whatever, but can we just keep moving on the quest? Pat chokes around his planned short speech about how the mystical language of the beer-soaked table had let him know they were late for dinner and stares at him. What? he asks, horrified. Sharpy rolls his eyes. Come the fuck on, he says. Save that shit for your own dorm room. Iscrew you, Sharpy, dont tell me how to run this game, Tazer says. Whatever, Sharpy says and the walls of the tavern shimmer back into place around them. Uh, Ill pass, Marelon says. Rye shrugs. Yeah, okay. Youre going down to Old Maeves cottage, right? Theres a shortcut if you turn left past the mill and follow the path across the big stream. Thanks, George says, and they head off. It turns out that theres totally a shortcut if you turn left past the mill and follow the path across the big stream, only its a shortcut that takes you over a bridge guarded by twin trolls named Meme and Socky. Idley breaks three ribs and poor Georges favourite scroll gets bitten in half and spat out across the cobblestones by Socky. Marelon wonders whether he shouldve just drunk the berries. * Psst, Kaner, Duncs hisses one Thursday afternoon, when Pats totally innocently walking back from encouraging Shaw to give Saad a baller new haircut. Pat turns around, but cant see Duncs anywhere.

Over here, Duncs says, poking his head out from behind a tree. Pat squints at him, puzzled, but walks over anyway, slowly in case this is one of Sharpys pranks. Hes tugged forward for the last couple of steps, and almost trips over a branch; it makes a snap-crackle sound under his sneakers. When he comes to a stop in a pile of leaves and looks up, Seabs is standing there with his arms crossed, looking extra-grumpy. Hey, he says. Uh, hey, Pat replies. We wanted to get you alone, Duncs says. You know, so nobody else could overhear. Um, Pat replies. Seabs rolls his eyes. Youre a moron. Brent! Duncs says, kicking him half-heartedly. He turns to face Pat again, smiling a little. Theres a faded black tee showing in the v of his shirt from where his tie is hanging loose, and his hair is lank and tangled. The smile manages to be a little comforting anyway, or at least Pat doesnt think this is all a plot of Sharpys. We just want you to know, Duncs says shyly, before flushing and going silent. Yeah? Pat prods, when it becomes clear Duncs isnt going to open his mouth again. Seabs glares at him some more. You can always talk to me and Brent if you need advice on keeping things with Tazer on the downlow, Duncs says eventually. All the muscles on Pats face tense. What? he asks, surprised. Theres nowhat? Seabs rolls his eyes. Were not stupid, he says. You can trust us, Duncs adds, and Seabs nods slightly. Ifuck. Theres nowere nothes notyoure going to get detention if you dont do up your tie, Duncs, Pat says desperately, feeling breathless and off-balance, before running off to Chemistry. Chemistry is a bust; usually its one of his favourite classes, and he likes getting to work with Sam, but today hes trapped in a confusing maelstrom of feelings. He honestly thought hed been keeping his thing for Tazer quiet, or at least that nobody took it seriously. And right up until Tazer thought it was a good idea to show his support for Pats sexuality through hotass dude NPCs, it had all been going pretty smooth. Or so Pat thought. But obviously everybody knows. And, fuck his actual life, what if Tazer knows? What if Tazer knows and this is his way of saying to Pat that, like, hes cool with all the flirting but only in gamespace? What if Tazer knows and hes fucking with Pat? What ifHey, Kane! Ms Zhang says. Pay attention! Sorry, Ms Zhang, he replies. Perhaps you can tell the class why copper has two half-filled orbitals instead of keeping the filled 4s orbita?

Uh, Pat says. Sure, I can do that. Sometimes Ms Zhang lets people stall if they keep talking. In your own time, she says while hes flicking at his notes restlessly, which means he needs to come up with an answer right away. Is it because the 3d and 4s for copper are close enough in energy that half filled orbitals are more stable than having 4 3d electrons? he asks. The odds must be in his favour, because thats the right answer; and Ms Zhang glares at him suspiciously before moving on to Kesler, half-asleep three seats over. He tries really hard to concentrate for the rest of the period. After Chemistry, he has journalism class, which is basically an excuse to read wikipedia in the name of research while Mr Mikkelsen drones on about typesetting. He ends up on the page for hibernation, having started out looking up the history of the pen, and spends a cool 10 minutes daydreaming about a hibernating dragon underneath a mountain and wondering if he can talk Tazer into it while the class has a loud debate about punctuation. Classes are over for the day after that, and Pat wanders back to Hawk House at a glacial pace. Maybe he should have thrown a couple of spitballs at someone and landed himself in detention for the afternoon. Mr Morellis really good about letting him have feelings in peace. Tazer sucks at that. Tazer. Who probably knows. And Duncs and Seabs, who definitely know and want to offer their death metal-and-plaid advice about it. At least Pats faster than either of them, and can fit into smaller spaces if he needs to hide. He cant hide from Tazer. Tazer knows where he sleeps. Fuck his life. * Stop fucking tapping, Tazer whines. So Pats maybe been sitting up against his pillows for the last hour, trying to focus on The Great Gatsby and tapping his pencil rhythmically against the side of the book. And maybe he knows thats something that drives Tazer crazy, but whatever: its not like he was doing it on purpose or anything. You stop tapping, Pat retorts, which is feeble, but he drops his pencil beside anyway and goes back to his book. Gatsby seems kind of a dick, but maybe thats the point. Hes grimly telling himself that he has to make it to the end of the chapter before moving on to math revision when Tazer speaks again. Hey, he says, sounding kind of reluctant and quieter than usual, and Pat looks over at him. Are youare you okay? he asks. Yeah? Pat replies. What? You just seem, I dont know, kind of weird? Tazer says. Since gamingI wonderedthe rogue, maybe you thought I wasI dont know. This is the actual worst. Pat shakes his head. No, I know youre notits not he says. He knows Tazer isnt trying to flirt with him or anything. Hes not getting his hopes up. Tazers eyebrows drop into a frown. Okay? he asks. Its cool, whatever, Pat mutters, and picks Gatsby back up.

* Two weeks later, he walks into the ball storage room off the large gym and finds Tazer with his tongue down the throat of some random, which: what the fuck. Pat drops his armful of balls, and Tazer leaps backwards and trips over a pile of gym mats. Pat has no idea why he has to be the one to keep walking in on people getting some, especially when he hasnt got any at school ever. Uh, Tazer says, hands clenched in his uniform pants. Hes got this weird look on his face, and Pat thinks hes probably going to do what Duncs and Seabs did and make him take a blood vow to tell nobody and enough is fucking enough. Words come spilling out of his mouth before hes formed the thoughts clearly in his head, a torrent of stuff he hadnt even realised hed been feeling, and Tazers eyebrows rise incrementally as the random inches towards the door. Like, you dont owe me anything, but you couldve told me you had a boyfriend when I told you I was bi, he finishes. Hes not my boyfriend? Tazer replies weakly. Were just buddies who make out sometimes. Yeah, no, butterface says. Im outthis is way too much drama. See you around, Toews. Pat turns his head to watch him go and, yeah, maybe he can see the attraction, but. Not the point. Hes not sure what hes supposed to say now that hes dumped his feelings all over the place, but if Tazer tries to make fun of him for it, Pat will punch him in the balls. They stare at each other silently for a while. Thanks for that, Tazer says eventually, dry as a bone. Pat rolls his eyes. It kind of hurts; his face feels tight. Whatever, he says, but his hearts not in it. He wants to ask what this means, if it means that Johnny likes boys too or if its just Tazer getting while the gettings good. He doesnthe just leans down and starts picking up the balls scattered across the floor. * Tazers in bed, facing the wall and breathing so slowly and so evenly Pat knows hes faking it, when Pat gets back to the dorm after dinner and an hour spent failing to read his history notes in the library. Pat just kicks off his shoes, letting them bounce off the wall with a thump. If Tazer doesnt want to talk to Pat, then thats justthats justSorry I made you and that guy stopwhatever, Pat says, sulky as hell and totally uncaring about it. Tazer rolls over in bed, pulling the covers with him like hes afraid hell be eaten if he leaves their protection. We werentit wasnt anything, he says. It didnt look like it wasnt anything, Pat retorts, before he manages to bite down on his tongue and remember the basics of self-preservation. He thinks this kind of shit is why Duncs and Seabs think he gets to put his tongue down Tazers throat for real, and he kicks out in Tazers direction in frustration. The kick doesnt connect with anything but air, because Pats legs arent that long and also because everything sucks. Tazer rolls his eyes. Likeits not like it couldnt have been anything, I guess, he says, sounding kind of dubious by the end. But it wasnt anything. It was just fun,

you know. PatPat would totally like to claim he doesnt know, but he did spend all summer with his tongue down Aarons throat and his hands down Aarons pants and that was definitely fun. And he thinks maybe Tazer just kind of came out to him, and that deserves something. So, like, youre into dick? he asks. Tazer stares at him, clearly appalled. Yes? he asks. Okay, Pat says. Buddies are cool, I guess, he says, weak as hell but hes managing to bare his teeth in a grin. Tazer still looks appalled, but his eyebrow is rising in that way it does when hes trying not to laugh in someones face because his mom raised him well or something. Yeah, he says, and Pat can hear the laugh in his voice. * Pat hasnot plans, exactly, but at least some kind of vague feeling that maybe he should make doubly certain that Tazer knows that theyre cool. He thinks about drawing dicks on a bunch of Tazers shit, but it might be misinterpreted. Their next session ends up getting delayed for a couple of weeks, once because Corey and a bunch of the other sophomores got mass detention for something involving rubber chickens and being out of bounds after curfew, and again for exams. Seabs has a new set of dice when they do finally manage to meet up, this black set with red glitter, and they do seem to be better than his last set: nobody gets hit in the head by a troll all session. * Pat and Tazer end up walking in on the butterface making out with some random guy in one of the storage huts down at the far end of the sports fields. Their reason for going there is of course totally legitimate: theyre planning a revenge prank against Sharpy and need somewhere to plot. It takes a good ten seconds for butterface to untangle himself from the guyPat seriously doesnt recognise himand shoot them one of the filthiest stares Pat has ever been on the wrong end of. Thanks for the interruption, Kaner, he snarls. Again. Hey, fuck off, Tazer says. Weve got shit to do. The weirdest thing about Tazer being a giant asshole all of the time is how surprised he is whenever it works. He stares at the backs of butterface and friend as they go find somewhere else to explore each others tonsils, this confused look on his face like he doesnt know which way is up. Huh, he says. Pat grins. Youre useful to have around, Ill give you that, he says. What? Tazer asks. Pat bursts out laughing. So, balloons? he asks. Tazer shrugs. Passe. Tazer shoots down Pats next eight suggestions, but concedes that the whoopie cushion and the mousetrap plot has some potential. Cool, so you get the mousetraps and Ill get the whoopie

cushion, Pat says, and Tazer nods. And I guess Im sorry about you and that guy, Pat adds. For real. Tazer rolls his eyes. Whatever. I miss having someone to make out with, maybe, but you know. Pat can respect that. He can respect that so much that Hey, if you want to make out with someone, we could... It is the most stupid sentence that has ever come out of his mouth. Its more stupid than the time he told his mom that he had to do his own laundry at home because sometimes he got nosebleeds. Hed ended up confessing that it was just he sometimes came all over the sheets in the doctors office, while Dr Andrews tried not to laugh too loudly and his mom glared at him. He wishes the ground would turn into a black hole and then he could be sucked down it and turned into super-dense particles and then the rest of the world could also get sucked down it and Um, okay, Tazer says. Its not even his sarcastic voice. Wait, really? Pat demands. Tazer seemskind of flushed, fidgeting with the seam on his pants and not making eye contact. Uh, yeah? Like, it doesnt have to be a big thing, just No, totally, not a big deal at all, Pat says in a rush. He can make it not be a big deal even if it kills him, even if maybe the palms of his hands feel a little clammy right now and hes pretty sure hes as red as a tomato. Tazer leans forward. Pat steps back. Tazer looks hurt for about a millisecond, and then glares at him. Not here, Pat says. We could get caught anywhere, Tazer retorts. Pat stares at him. Johnny, he says, very slowly. Were roommates. Theres a lock. Tazers mouth drops open a little, and they keep staring at each other until Pat rolls his eyes and screws up his face. And everyone says Tazer is the smart one. * Tazers got this one tooth that Pats fascinated by, one of his incisors. It grew in a little crooked, but not enough that Tazers parents want to pay for braces, and Pat likes to lick up the back of it. Tazer seems to like him doing it. Its kind of awkward for the first ten minutes or so, because Pat keeps thinking that this is Tazer, his best friend and roommate and DM. Then he remembers that Tazer is his best friend, roommate, and DM, and if Pats going to have convenient buddy makeouts with someone, Tazer is by far his best option. Sharpys better looking, but Sharpys got a gorgeous long-term girlfriend who meets him in town wearing knee socks and short skirts, so. After that, its great for about a week. Tazers a good kisser, confident and not too spitty, and he gets even better once Pat convinces him to stop doing that with his tongue all the damn time. Theyre making out on Tazers desk, probably crushing his homework, and Tazers just got his tongue down Pats throat and his hand up the back of Pats shirt, when Pat realises that hes the stupidest person ever.

Because hes making out with Tazer, his best friend, roommate, and DM, sure, but also Tazer>, alias: That Guy Pats Had A Crush On Forever, alias: Will Break His Heart With One Bad Roll. And its terrible. He gets distracted enough to stop moving his tongue, and Tazer pulls back. Pats back is cold now in the place Tazer had his hand. Maybe itll be cold forever, and Pat would deserve it, andWhats up? Tazer demands. His mouth is really shiny. Maybe Pat can just ignore his stupid feelings and concentrate on the free buddy makeouts hes getting here. Your mouth is reallyshiny, Pat says, apropos of exactly nothing. Tazer grunts something that might be acceptance of the compliment and might be a return of it, who the fuck knows, and leans in to kiss him again. Pats stupid feelings are totally defenceless in the face of that and also the secure knowledge that Tazers chem homework is getting totally fucked up. * Pats essay on Russian involvement in World War II is not going well, probably because theyre banned from citing Wikipedia and hes been too lazy to go to the library thus far. Hes working on it anyway, because its due in three days and writing a lot of bullshit is better than writing two paragraphs of accurate and beautiful prose. He stabs at his keyboard some more. Wikipedia doesnt become an acceptable source, though, and he thinks maybe its time to take a short break and play some FreeCell. Or Sims 3. Or Final Fantasy. Hes loaded the Sims, created a household, and is watching his young athlete take her first steps on her treadmill when Tazer closes his math book. What are you doing? Tazer asks, sounding hopeful. Uh, history? Pat tries. Its a stupid lie, because its not like he cant tell Tazer when hes slacking off, and also its not like Tazer cant stand up, walk three steps, and look over his shoulder. Your kitchen is ugly, Tazer says. Pat kicks him. Candys broke, he says. Dont judge her. Candy has bad taste, Tazer retorts, so Pat kicks him again. And arent you meant to be doing your history essay? So? Pat demands. Its not due for three days, I can totally do it. Do you need some kind of reward scheme? Tazer asks, sounding amused. Reward scheme? Yeah, Tazer says. Like a points scheme for makeouts. Points scheme, Pat repeats. Tazers totally all flushed now. I thought it could be cool? he asks. No, yeah, Pat says flatly. I guess. But Tazer stares at him.

Do you really want me to, like, associate your tongue with thesis statements or whatever? Tazer blinks at him; the flush gets deeper. Its kind of hot, really, and by kind of, Pat means blazingly. Not really? Tazer asks. Didnt think so, Pat says, triumphant and done with the Sims for now. Tazers looking kind of out of it, standing against the side of Pats bed and looking down at him. Pat, very carefully, closes his laptop and puts it somewhere safehe learnt that lesson over the summerbefore looking up at Tazer and, very carefully, licking his bottom lip. His hands are all up in Tazers hair while Tazer leans all over him when next he has a thought that isnt about Tazers stupid mouth and stupidly long fingers. Fuck, he says, pulling away from Tazer. What? Tazer demands. A bunch of other guys are doing this topic too. I gotta go to the library now, man. The resulting five-minute-long glaring contest is totally worth it for the way Tazer blinks first and Pat then pushes him off the bed. And also because Tazers still loose-limbed and dazed enough that he doesnt even punch Pat when he gives him a noogie on his way out the door. The way Tazer seems to be into their buddy makeouts as much as Pat is almost makes up for the way Pats stomach does a funny little twinge every time he remembers he cant hold Tazers hand. He kind of wants to punch himself in the face for being so stupidly romantic about the whole deal, but his mom told him never to be embarrassed for having feelings. So he just goes to the library instead, and shoves Adam out of the way when he goes to grab the book Pat wants. * The thing is, now that Pats putting his tongue into Tazers mouth whenever he can, and sliding his hands up Tazers shirtand one time last week down the back of his pants a little, which made Tazer jerk forward and bite Pats lip, which made Pat jerk forward, which made them both leap back a little, because theyve never talked about going further Now that all thats happening, Marelon feels super-awkward flirting with the barmaids for information. And there are a lot of barmaids. And wenches. And leather-clad warriors with gleaming oiled muscles who wait outside hamlets looking to trade information for whatever that is in Marelons pocket. ... Marelon has a lot in his pockets, but somehow they never seem very interested in the scrolls of Classical Greek poetry he picked up cheap from a peddler last spring. Theyre walking towards their almost certain doom, which according to the fortune-teller they consulted in the last market town will come in the form of a serpent, or possibly a market gardener with a snake tattoo, when Marelon spies an inn off the main road. We should stop for a drink, he announces. George shrugs. Cant hurt, he says, and everyone else nods. They might know a shortcut, Isley suggests, so they walk a little faster. Its taken them three weeks to walk towards their almost-certain doom so far, and getting passed by farmers and their dusty, hay-filled carts lost its charm about 20 days ago. The inn is a little run-down, with a smoke-stained ceiling and dirty whitewash on the walls. The foods good, though, beef stew and bread, and theyre confident that its not going to make them

sick. Ralph and Gaian down their scrumpy probably faster than is wise, but its looking to be a nice night and Marelon doesnt think theyll be run off the land if they pitch their tent along the edge of the copse of trees outside. Your round, Marelon, Isley says. Its been Marelons round all night, probably because the barmaid has been throwing in free snack nuts with the scrumpy. She shakes her head when he drops a few coins on the counter. Its on the house, she says, and the way she says itconspiratorially, like theyve been friends for years, like she has something she wants to give himmakes Marelon suspicious. Its that paranoia thats kept him alive through this quest, through the dragon and the trolls, through the long nights of quietly escaping jail cells throughout the land, stopping on the way only to steal some eggs, and Marelon always listens to his instincts. Why? he demands. She quirks her lip. Ive just always had a thing for men with blond curls, she says, and Uh, Tazer, Crow says. Tazer glares at him. What? We established four sessions ago that Marelon has straight white hair and a beard going down to his knees. Shit, Tazer says, fervent and quiet. Pat stares at him. Hes never known Tazer to forget a character detail like that before. They decided during last years game that Crows character had purple boots; sure enough, four weeks later, theyd been cursed out of town by a wicked witch who despised anything that reminded her of royalty. It makes all the leather-clad rogues and buxom dairymaids flirting with him way funnier, to be honest. Tazer doesnt say anything, just sits there staring into the middle distance, looking like he wishes he could be abducted by aliens right this second; and Pat doesnt know what to do, except that he doesnt want to leave. Not ifnot if Were heading back to the dorms, Brent says. Uh-huh, Tazer says blankly, and everybody else leaves. I have blond curly hair, Pat says eventually, when it has become totally clear Tazers just going to sit there while the earth rotates around the sun and aeons pass and the entire human race evolves into something smarter or possibly just better-looking. Yeah, Tazer agrees. The barmaid liked it? Pat asks. Uh, yeah, Tazer says. I made her up, he adds, like thats meant to clear whatever up. Pat is totally confused. So, you dont? he asks. No, I do, Tazer says, totally unhelpfully. Like, I make them all up. I know, Pat says, because he does. Tazers the DM here.

I know, Pat says, because he does. Tazers the DM here. Tazer stares at him. No, he says, like it means something. They all like you. Okay, Pat says slowly. Because I make them up, Tazer says. And Im not very creative sometimes, he adds, quiet and sullen. Oh. Oh! Patrick exclaims. I flirt with all the NPCs, he adds, encouragingly. You flirt with everything, Tazer retorts, kind of sourly, and that is unfair. Bullshit, Pat replies. Like, I dont flirt with Ralph, or Gaian, or George, or Isley. And when we played that gangster game with Crow as GM, I didnt flirt with any of the NPCs. You and me got married to stop Fat Tony from shooting up the restaurant, remember? Oh, Tazer says. Then Pats phone beeps in his pocket, and he pulls it out. Shit, he says. Lights-out in 10. * They bolt back to their room, and its a hideous rush to get changed into pajamas and into bed before room check. They dont talk during it; Pats pretty sure they just confessed mutual feelings or something, and further confessions shouldnt be interrupted by anyone in a position of authority. Once the RA has been by to check that theyre not up to mischief, Pat lets the room go silent. His feet are cold, and whispering in the dark feels likefeels like it could go badly wrong, if Pat says the wrong thing. I really like making out with you, Tazer says quietly, a few minutes later. Pat knew he wasnt asleep. I like it too, Pat agrees. Like, a lot, Tazer adds. Me too, Pat replies quickly. Good, Tazer says, fast and emphatic. Pat totally wants to make out right now. I totally want to make out right now, he blurts out. Um, Tazer says. Uhhhhh, Pat says. I couldcome over there? Tazer asks. Yeah, Pat replies, totally relieved at not being shot down. Also, making out with Tazer. Who likes making out with him . Tazers blankets rustle in the gloom as he gets out of bed. He stands over Pats bed like an idiot an idiot under the cover of darknessfor fully half a minute before Pat pulls him down. Relax, Pat says. Weve got this.

Oh my god, Tazer says. Its that voice he gets when hes talking to Pat sometimes, like hes not sure whether hes embarrassed or excited or whatever. Pat sometimes does shit just to get the voice. Its not as cool as Tazers makeout voice, or his Why Did You Stop Kissing Me? voice, but some things arent appropriate in public. You like it, Pat says, comfortable, and then wiggles until Tazer gets the hint and kisses him. Making out in the dark is new and kind of weird, and Pat cant really see anything. But Tazer sleeps shirtless, which is excellent for Pat because it means he can feel him up under the covers while they tongue. God, Pat hopes nobody pulls the fire alarm. * A week later, Tazer asks him if he wants to grab dinner in town; theyve got a free weekend coming up. Since theyve grabbed dinner in town at least once every free weekend since they were freshmen, Pat doesnt really understand why Tazer is asking, but, whatever. He says yes. When its time to get ready, though, Tazer vetoes every t-shirt Pat puts on, even Pats awesome EAT, SLEEP, GAME one. Pat puts up with this for all of ten minutes, and then demands, What the fuck is your problem? You cant go out on a date like that, Kaner, god, Johnny replies, sounding frustrated as fuck. And then he goes bright red and looks horrified by himself, so appalled that Pat laughs so hard he falls over. He keeps going for a minute or so, because what the actual fuck, but when Pat pulls it together enough to look up at Tazer, he looks really upset. Like, maybe he thinks Pats laughing at the idea of them on a date and not at the idea of Tazer having opinions about his clothes when on said date. So he shakes his head and pulls out a plain black tee and a flannel shirt from the back of his drawer. He tugs them both over his head, spins around, and asks, Are you happy now? Tazer nods, but it still looks a little hesitant. Which. Pat will actually kick his own ass if hes made Tazer rethink dating him for real. But he still cant let Tazer think that he gets to, like, dress him now, so he adds, No, seriously, does this meet with your approval? Tazers mouth twists reluctantly up into a smile. For our date, Pat adds. That you didnt ask me out for. Uh, Tazer says. Yes, I did. Uh, no, Patrick retorts. We get dinner every free weekend. Not since we starteduh Johnny says. Whatever. Tazer rolls his eyes, and then takes Pats hands firmly in his own. Will you go out on a date with me, Patrick, he says, totally flatly. Pat just knows that his eyes are that wide and soulful-looking on purpose. Tazer is, and forever will be, a total asshole. Pat thinks hes probably expecting that hell laugh, but hes not, not even a little. He just nods, helpless, and then lurches forward to kiss Tazer. His aim is a little off, but he fakes like that was on purpose, drops a bunch of tiny kisses on Tazers lips until Tazer starts laughing, and then kisses him properly so he wont have to talk. His hairs all

fucked-up by the time they have to run to the bus, but whatever. * They get pizza and talk about orcs for three hours, until the waitress is coming over to frown at them every five minutes. Its getting time to go back to the bus anyway, so they leave money on the table and walk slowly down the road, towards the huddle of other guys. Weird that nobody really bothered them all night; its not like they were playing footsie under the table or anything. Well, not much. Are you going to walk me back to the dorm? Pat asks quietly, when theyre still a block away from the bus. What, are you going to invite me in for coffee or something? Tazer retorts. And, like, Pat knows thats code for sex. And Tazer obviously said it without thinking it through, because hes biting his lip now. What if I am? Pat asks. Tazer glances at him then looks away. I like coffee, he says eventually. Pat thinks maybe hes going to get laid tonight. He wishes he could Skype Erica and ask her about the three-date rule, but theyve caught up with the rest of the guys now, and theres no opportunity. * Theyre barely in their door when they start making out. Which is stupid, because room checks are in like 15 minutes, so they have to keep it together until then. But Pat really really wants to maybe put his hands down Tazers pants, and press his thumbs into Tazers hipbones. So it takes an inhuman effort to pull away. Tazers hair is all messed-up, and his lips are all swollen and red, and Pat wants to put his tongue there, maybe his teeth a little. He wants to know what Tazers into. He knows a little: like that Tazer makes out that he wants to be in charge, but if Pat climbs into his lap and presses his fingers into his back, or just underneath the waistband of his pants, or the edge of his jawline, near his ear, Tazer will stay there and not try to roll them over. Pat doesnt know if thats because Tazer doesnt want to accidentally do stuff Pat doesnt like, or if its because hes totally happy just waiting to see what Pat will do and respond to it. Like, right now, Tazers sitting on his bed and staring at him. Pats pretty sure hes confused as to why Pat climbed off him. Room check, he explains. We better, he adds. Yeah, Tazer agrees. They pass room check with flying colours, except that Tazer gets warned about his dirty laundry pile again. Pat laughs at him. Shut up, Tazer whines. No, Pat says triumphantly, and gets up to lock the door. Theyre technically not supposed to lock their doors when theyre meant to be sleepingfire risk or whateverbut everyone does, in case of pranks.

When he turns around, Tazers got his blankets folded back and is staring at him. His bedside lamp is on and everything, so Pat switches off the overhead and goes over. They make out for a while, their shirts ending up somewhere on the floor. Pat totally does not even care that hes probably going to injure himself again tripping over them whenever he goes back to his own bed. Its a little different when Pat tugs at the waist of Tazers pajama pants, a little nerve-wracking. They dont make eye-contact as they each take off their own pants, but Pat tries to put a little extra into their next kiss. Theyve totally felt each others boners before, and theyve totally seen each others dicks; but Pat has never seen Tazers boner before. He wants to taste it, but that kind of seemsa little advanced, like trying to beat the big boss before youre past the first level. So what he does is touch it, and Tazer gasps. So Pat wriggles until their dicks are touching, and licks his way into Tazers mouth. They end up lying side-by-side, squished into Tazers bed, panting into each others mouths with their hands on each others dicks. Pat bites down on Tazers lip when he comes, and its the best hes ever felt in his life. And then Tazer moans a whole lot and then comes all over Pats stomach. And then they just kind of stay there, sticky and gross and sleepy, yawning into each others mouth as they sloppily kiss; and its not as explosive as the orgasm was but its just as nice, somehow. * Two sessions later, they end up having to loop back through a few villages, chasing a rumour about a goose that lays dragon eggs, and they end up stopping for the night at a tavern theyve been to before. Ralph and Gaian are singing for their supper and drinks, something about sailors, and Isleys keeping his face hidden from people hes pickpocketed before while George talks to the village priest. Marelons up at the bar, charming Miss Mary, and thats probably why he doesnt see the punch coming. He hits his chin and his forehead on the way down, and it takes him a few seconds to catch his breath enough to stand. You lot stole my missuss eggs last time you came through, the man saysand hes huge, tall and heavily muscled, with a snarl on his face and a tattoo of a snake curving around his neck and bald skull. Youve got the wrong guy, Marelon says automatically. No I dont. Saw your beard, the man says. And that ones cleric robes, flapping around his knees as you ran. The man probably does not have the wrong guy. Now, Alf, one of the other patrons says. No need to be hasty. Dont want a repeat of last time. Marelon also does not want a repeat of last time, whatever last time was. Our Ellen was going to make me a cake, Alf says. She couldnt, because these bastards stole my missuss eggs. That sounds very much like its going to be a repeat of last time. Marelon takes a fist to the head and a boot to the spine before he can collect himself enough to throw a spell back. It doesnt do what he expects, though; Alfs snake tattoo glows, green and

yellow and ominous, and sucks the magic into his head, while Alfs lips curl up into a horrific smirk and he steps forward. Fuck, Marelon says. Gaian throws his tambourine at Alfs head, but it just bounces off. Alf turns and chuckles, just enough to let them know that he isnt scared of them, and everyone else in the tavern apart from their party scatters into the night. Theres a hissing sound behind Marelon. He doesnt want to turn to see what it is, but he does; because hes a warrior-mage, and thats what warrior-mages do. They turn and face the hissing sounds. Its a hydra, a tiny one-headed thing with vicious little claws and skinny, spindly legs. Fucking kill it, Ralph screams, and Gaian draws his sword and leaps forward and chops off its head. Jesus christ, youre a moron, Marelon says. Gaian shrugs. What? Its dead. Between them, the hydras headless body is still twitchingand now growing, and sending out little tendrils from the stump that Marelon knows will, soon enough, turn into new heads, two of them. Hydras are close to immune to magic, have poisonous venom, and, oh yeah, their heads grow back. Alf is laughing maniacally. Their almost-certain death has arrived. * Itsa battle, bloody and without remorse. Gaian loses a leg; Ralph loses an eye. Isley uses up all his crossbow bolts trying to pierce the scale on the hydras body, and George spends a full minute praying to every god he knows before calmly picking up a bottle of Olde Malt and slamming it over Alfs head. Surprisingly, Alf goes down like a ton of bricks, his magical snake tattoo no match for a stout glass bottle in the hands of a frowning man of faith. That does not, however, deal with the hydra, which is shrieking and now has 6 heads, all snapping in different directions. The floor is slippery with blood, mostly theirs, and Marelon has an idea. He takes out his dagger, tests the level of slipperiness, and slides towards the hydra, ducking just enough to get under it and slit its belly. It works. It works, and hes covered in hydra blood and intestines, and Gaian might be bleeding out in a corner, and while Alf is unconscious hes still breathing, and And it works, and theyre all still alive, and Marelons not totally sure but he thinks maybe its all over but for the parade. * So, Sharpy says, flinging an arm over Pats shoulder one day between classes. You finally locked that shit down.

Pat cant even pretend not to be smug about it. Yeah, he answers. Good for you, Sharpy says, ruffling his hair. Pat would elbow him in the side, but Tazer should be just around the corner, and theres a storage closet they can duck into for a minute or two if theyre quick. Hes got his hands fisted in Tazers blazer and his teeth on Tazers neck when the door opens suddenly. He blinks at the sudden light and the figure standing in it. Gentlemen, Mr Morelli announces. Detention. THE END

Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

"Come at me, bro!"

Pats sitting in the cafeteria at dinner, absently listening to Sharpy wax lyrical about his girlfriend and pondering his options when Tazer comes in and sits down with a thump. He looks mischievous, which is always suspect, and he pulls a dice bag out of his hoody pocket and dumps it on the table. Uh, Sharpy says. I didnt think we were gaming tonight. Were not, Tazer says. At least not our regular game. Why do you have your dice bag, then? Pat asks. Nobody could blame him for sounding a little dubious. Tazer just smirks. * Theres only five of them left, Pat and Patrick and Duncan and Brent and Corey, and they move slowly through the hallways, terrified of making a sound. Outside, the zombies crawl over each other, the stench of decay spiralling up the stone walls of the school. This sucked enough when it happened last week, Pat hisses, as they carefully jump through a beam of moonlight on their way towards the chem labs. Theres a skittering sound, quick as a knife, somewhere behind them, and Corey pushes them all forwards. Shut up, Kaner, Duncan retorts, his voice a little too loud for a whisper and a little too high for anything but blind panic. Seriously, Pat says, once theyve barricaded themselves into the lab and have started investigating the bottles of chemicals lined up on the wall. I thought we killed that vampire. Zombies come from necromancers, you tool, Brent replies. I wonder if we still have wifi? Patrick asks. So we can google building bombs. They dont. The skittering sound gets louder, and theres a scratching at the windows. The moon is bright enoughits always bright for apocalypsesto see a growing mass of figures on the lawn outside, lurching forward unevenly. Holy shitballs, guys, Corey says. Hes managed to MacGyver up a series of mirrors so he can see whats walking up the corridors without having to leave the lab. Hehe does not sound very calm. What? Patrick demands.

I dont even know what that is, Corey says. But its dripping. Thats fucking it, Brent says flatly. Im not waiting for it to get here. He proceeds to do a bunch of stuff with a bunch of chemicals, before chucking a bottle into the corridor. Nothing happens. The skitteringreally more of a chittering nowgets louder, metallic little taps on the linoleum. Fuck it, Brent says. No, Duncan shouts. Brent! Come back, asshole, you dont have to be a The rest of his sentence gets swallowed in the blast, a roaring flash of light and sound. The next thing Pat notices is his breathing, short, desperate gasps that take in more smoke than oxygen. The sprinklers have come on, and hes cold and huddled with Corey in a corner; across the room, Patricks trying to stop Duncan from prying the safety axe off the wall with his bare hands. We gotta keep it together, hes saying, insistent and sharp, and Pat forced himself upright. Has anyone checked the corridor? he asks. It feels like he can barely speak through the lump in his throat. Patrick shakes his head. Okay, yeah, Pat says, vaguely. Yeah, yeah. It doesnt take him long, just a step through the doorway and a glance to confirm that there are shards of metal buried in the lockers and bloody lumps of flesh he doesnt want to look at more closely. He steps back in. The door closes with a thump. Nothings alive out there, he says, and Duncan makes an awful sound, shuddering and hollow. We gottawe gotta get out of here, Corey says slowly. Maybe the basements? I heard theres an emergency bunker down there. Patrick nods and, after a beat, so do Duncan and Pat. * Its Patrick next, taken out by a zombified Mrs Quince-Chamberlain as theyre sprinting past the faculty offices. He manages to scream out a warning as they grab him, and Corey, Pat, and Duncan turn down a side-corridor just in time. But. But its still a fucking zombie apocalypse, and the odds are not in the favour of anybody alive, and theres a hole in the wall at the end of the corridor and a figure in black, swirling robes standing on the crumbling stonework and holding a lantern. Fuck this noise, Pat shouts, impulsive and pissed. Theres a small fire extinguisher on the wall; he grabs it, and brandishes it above his head like a club. Fucking run, you guys, he screams at Duncan and Corey, standing like dumbasses at his side.

He waits only a second, just long enough for them to turn and start running in the opposite direction, and then he yells, as much of a snarl as he can manage, Come at me, bro! * He wakes up with a lurch. Come, my child, a voice says, dry and cold as winter, and he follows helplessly. He feels weird, sluggish, and his feet wont quite move the way he wants them to. He remembers this place, he thinks, but its distant, all faded colours and muted noise. Theres only the voice and the moon now. I have a task for you, the voice says, and he listens. They walk more, so deep into the hulking thing that the light of the moon goes out. There are scratching sounds that follow them, and brief flickers of flame. He just plods on, slow and uncaring of where he puts his feet, and eventually the shape that holds the voice stops. Through here, it says, and he goes. Theres a lot of noise where he steps next, none of it intelligible except for a single syllable he thinks once might have been his nameand then a clattering of diceand then a swing of motion towards him, and he knows no more. * Jesus christ, Sharpy says, delighted. Pat feels like hes blinking back to himself, shoving away the feeling of being perfectly obedient to the whims of an evil necromancer with Tazers voice, and finds himself grinning. Fuckin A, Tazer! Tazers smiling broadly, obviously pleased with himself and his everything. That was pretty cool, Corey adds. Hes laughing, and hes got the kind of laugh thats infectious: pretty soon, theyre all laughing, talking over each other about when Seabs took down the bio teacher and when Duncs made a miniature flamethrower out of shit in the school kitchens. I got exploded! Seabs exclaims, like they werent all there. Man, that was an unlucky roll. Maybe your dice are cursed, Tazer says solemnly, and they all look at them suspiciously before Pat starts laughing again.

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